“I wondered why you wanted to live there at all, but now I think I understand,” he said. “The offer I have made to you is without prejudice to any action I may take. Unfortunately for you, Leonard has no power to re-transfer the property without my brother’s consent--which means my consent, for I hold his power of attorney. Leonard may hold the property, but you cannot. You’re a lawyer and it is not necessary for me to explain the intricacies of a copyhold lease, and that was all Leonard was buying. If you decide to fight the case, I’ll take you into court, and you know that I shall get a verdict against you. I am offering you a chance of settling the matter amicably.” “Which I refuse,” said the other promptly. Dick inclined his head. “Very good. You will probably, on considering the matter in a calmer atmosphere, take a different view.” He walked from the room, swinging his hat. In the doorway he turned. “As for Miss Leslie Gwyn, you will be well advised to reconsider that question also.” “And suppose I don’t?” Again that unfathomable smile. “You are going to be sorry,” said Dick cryptically. XV Not a word did Leslie say about her interview with Gilder, and her brother seemed just as anxious to avoid the topic as she. They drove down from town, and all the time he kept up a ceaseless flow of talk about affairs which he thought might interest her. He was nervous, and once, when she woke him from a reverie with a question, he started and turned red. “Sorry!” he stammered. “I was thinking of something.” “And something unpleasant, Arthur,” she said gently. He was staring straight ahead of him. “Yes, something damnably unpleasant!” They were nearing Chelfordbury now, and she put the question that had trembled on her lips throughout that long journey. “Arthur, do you know what Mr. Gilder asked me?” And, when he did not reply: “He proposed to me,” she said. Still he avoided her eyes. “Did he?” he asked awkwardly. “Well, that’s an extraordinary thing for him to do!” “Arthur, did you know he was going to propose to me when you left us alone?” “He isn’t a bad fellow,” said Arthur Gwyn lamely. “Of course, the idea is preposterous. But, after all, it is no sin for a fellow to fall in love with a girl and want to marry her--I mean, one can see his point of view.” Leslie was a little shocked; she was more than a little angry. But she kept a tight rein on her tongue. “But, Arthur, you wouldn’t agree to that? You know I am engaged to Harry--why, you told me that it was the dream of your life to see me wearing a coronet! Not that I want to wear the beastly thing, but that was what you said.” Ordinarily, Arthur Gwyn was possessed of a ready tongue and a nimble wit. He had lied his way out of many an embarrassing situation with more worldly wise people than Leslie. But, somehow, in her presence his brain refused to function, and his witticisms were banal and vulgar even to himself.